Hope is the thing with feathers -
by RosalindAnnaBorelli
Summary: OS. Draco Malfoy and Neville Longbottom meet again in a graveyard, a few years after the end of the war. Despite Malfoy's trust issues and Longbottom's everlasting insecurities, something new seems to bloom from there. [TW : depression, self-harm, shattered mental health, mentions of suicide] (not all the TW are about the MCs). Also, it ends well. (Because All was well, right ?)


_Il est un arbre au cimetière_  
 _Poussant en pleine liberté,_  
 _Non planté par un deuil dicté, -_  
 _Qui flotte au long d'une humble pierre._

 ** _Dernier espoir - Paul Verlaine_**

 ** _/_**

He came across the graveyard with confidence, strolling through high grass. His confidence was faker than a politician's speech.

Through time, he had memorized every name carved on the graves he passed by. They were familiar names. Friends' names, for some. Classmates' names for sure. Professors' names. People he knew.

Of course there was guilt. It was a feeling now familiar for the man. His therapist was helping him with that. She was very good at her job and was a nice change from the judgemental people who had surrounded Draco after the war. His eighth year had been hell.

He stopped at a small grave in the back corner of the graveyard. _Vincent Crabbe (1980-1998)_. He took a deep breathe. He tried not to think of Crabbe senior, in jail, or of Vincent's younger brother, Jimmy, who was so impressed by his big brother.

He ran away when the guilt went too strong. In his haste, he smashed into someone.

"Sorry" he grumbled.

The man he had almost knocked over accepted his apology gracefully.

Their eyes met.

"Malfoy ?"

"Longbottom."

The other man had been watering a colored plant on a nearly grave. Some water had spilled because of his encounter with Malfoy. _Augusta Clara Longbottom nee Fortescue (1905 - 2001)_ the gravestone read. Probably Longbottom's Grandma. Draco had heard funny tales about her. Quite the woman, it would have seemed.

"I didn't think I would ever see you there." Neville observed awkwardly.

He hadn't moved from the pathway. Draco Malfoy shrugged.

"Am I not the graveyard type ?" he said with a raised eyebrow, defiant, and squared his shoulders.

"I don't know. It's just that I wasn't aware you had closed ones buried here." Neville said simply.

"Fuck you." Malfoy spat angrily.

He had lost people in the war too. His own mother had died a few years after, her grief over her husband's life-long condemnation taking over her will to live.

Pansy had been a shadow since the battle and the loss of her father and favorite cousin. She seldom got out of her lonely flat, and always at dark. Draco had seen the marks on her wrists. He had held her all night while she cried over Marcus' death after months of him being in a coma.

Gregory hadn't talk to him since Vince's death. He resented that. It made him feel bad.

Blaise had chosen to travel the world, trying to forget the horror he witnessed in his seventh year. He still had to come back to England. He didn't seem like he intended to in a near future.

Theo and Adrian had disappeared with their respective families. All the owls he had sent them had been returned.

Daphne had ran away with some muggle girl. She was the only one remotely happy of their bunch. Good for her. Draco would not hold it against her. He had always had a soft spot for the bright young woman. She still wrote him letters every few months.

Tracy had tried to drink the guilt away with little success. She had severe PTSD from the battle. Most of them had.

They all went to therapy. Well, the good guys did too. Draco had seen Dean Thomas chatting with Hannah Abbott in his shrink's waiting room. They had diplomatically avoided to acknowledge his presence.

Draco wished Longbottom had offered him the same courtesy.

"Wait ! I didn't mean - I wasn't trying to be rude. It's just that this is a small cemetery. Not the kind - well, you know." Augusta's grandson said, looking embarrassed.

He knew. Not a rich Pureblood families only graveyard.

Vincent's burial had been a rushed small affair. His mother had fled to the United States with her younger kids. Rea, his older half-sister had stepped in and took care of it all. Mr Crabbe had to stay low during his trial, a big thing would have not do.

Draco had never think much of Rea. He hadn't know her well. She was Mr Crabbe's and his first wife's daughter. She had been an even-tempered, discreet Ravenclaw, according to Vince's accounts. He should have seen the punch coming, really. It was the quiet ones you have to watch. She had lost her mother at age four, her half-brother was dead and her father was facing heavy charges.

She had not make a fuss. Just dragged Draco away from the rest of the crowd at the end of the ceremony, cried "How dare you showing your face here !" and drove her knuckles right in his face. Draco had a small scar fon his right cheek from the heirloom ring she was wearing.

Draco had read about her research project in Astronomy in the Daily Prophet. He hoped she was doing fine. He sent a silent prayer to Merlin for Jimmy, Arabel, and Vincent's mother. He hadn't heard about them for years.

"Are you fine ?"

The gentle concern in Neville Longbottom's voice startled him. It was their in his warm eyes, too. Pure kindness. Maybe people didn't change.

Draco shrugged.

"Just remembering." he said, a crooked smile adorning his pale lips.

Neville nodded, lost in his thoughts.

"I missed her, you know." he said quietly after a few seconds.

Strangely, Draco wasn't so eager to part ways anymore. It had been a long time he didn't had a friendly enough conversation. Well, one who wasn't too painful. However, he wasn't Longbottom's new best buddy.

"If you're hoping for confession time, I-" he said, frowning.

Longbottom didn't look like a prying person. Well, it had been years. You never knew.

"No. I supposed you were a privy guy. I just hoped you wouldn't mind listening." he answered.

Draco noticed he had put his watering can down, put would have been unable to pinpoint when he had done so.

"You can go on." he said, a bit wary.

Neville looked at him sadly. He pitied him for being so distrustful, surely. Draco had been hurt too many times to be different. He held his head high.

"She was tough. But she loved me, you know. She was doing her best. It was difficult to please her, she expected so much from me. In my very heart, I know she was proud of me. However, there had always been that part of me who wondered if I couldn't have been better."

Neville took a deep breathe. His expression had softened as he was talking about his severe but loving grandmother.

"The answer is no. I did my best, too. Maybe it was never going to be enough. I don't know, but I couldn't do more. It took me time to accept it. Time and Luna. This woman is fantastic." Neville said.

He looked amazed. Not only he respected Lovegood, but he admired her, Draco constated. He felt a pang of envy. He was no longer respected, and admired ever less. Nobody talked about him the way Neville talked about Luna.

"So, you tied the knot with her. Why am I not surprised ?"

He sounded bitter, even to his own ears, but Neville didn't comment on it.

Instead, he laughed frankly. It surprised Draco. It had been too long since he had last heard someone laugh so sincerely. All Nevile's face laughed : wrinkles formed at his eyes' corners and laughing lines appeared at his lips, tears falling down his face as he held his ribs.

Draco almost smiled. It had been a long time he had made someone laugh. Also, Neville's newfound sparkle troubled him. His face was shining as he laughed.

"Luna ? No. She's more like a soul sister or something. Also, there is the girl part." Neville said, shaking his head with amusement.

Draco felt confused.

"Sorry ?" he said, hoping for a clearer explanation.

One that Neville was quick to deliver. He wasn't big on mysteries.

"I am gay, Draco." he revealed, scanning the ex- Deatheater's face.

Whatever it was he was looking for, he didn't seem to find it. Draco Malfoy just shrugged. His counterpart nodded, satisfied.

"I wasn't aware it was public knowledge." he commented.

It was Neville's turned to look confused, furrowed his brows in a way Malfoy almost found charming.

"You didn't read that article ? The _A homosexual Hogwart's Head of House teaches Herbology to helpless children_? The same helpless children I keep from jumping each other's bones in cupboards on a regular basis when they reach sixteen, sould I add."

Draco really smiled from the first time of their conversation. He remembered snogging Daphne in the Quidditch's changing rooms and feeling it was all wrong. The feeling had been mutual. Being caught by Snape hadn't help to make them feel less awkward with each other. They had quickly decided to return to the friends step of their relationship.

He missed his friend. He concentrated on the other part of Neville's words.

"Impressive reiterative use of the letter H." he admitted, raising an eyebrow.

"You noticed ? Skeeter's protegee seemed to think so. It made the first page. You hadn't suscribed to the Prophet ?" he said, curious.

"I had. My assistant is charged to remove anything likely to vex me before handing me the newspaper." he explained.

Neville's face went red with anger.

"You gave them instructions to remove anything concerning same-sex attraction ? A real progressive, aren't you, Malfoy ?" he said icily, something threatening on his voice.

"Actually, I gave them instructions to remove anything concerning Hogwarts." he retorted.

He felt hurt. People were always ready to assume the worst from him. He was stupid to think the Herbology Professor would be any different.

Neville deflated and seemed ashamed.

"Oh. It's that bad ?" he asked, compassion showing in his soft, calming voice.

Draco could have sworn he used this tone to talk to plants he was saving from careless students.

"I manage."

The answer was short, clipped.

He hesitated. Neville put a hand on his shoulder.

He broke. It had been so long he had anyone to confide in. His friends were either unreachable or hurting too much themselves to help with someone's else struggles. His parents - he would rather not think about them. Too much memories.

"I worry for my friends. Especially Pansy. I know how it looked when we were at Hogwarts - but she is a good person. How did you call Lovegood, again ? Your soul friend or something. She's that to me, and she's -"

He sobbed. He couldn't do it anymore. He had done it for the last few years, but he couldn't now.

"It's okay." Neville said.

It took him two seconds to usher Draco to his grandmother's gravestone. He sat down on the cold stone, pulling the distressed man down with him. He took the ex-Slytherin's hands into his.

"Tell me." he coaxed him into sharing his fears.

Draco diverted his eyes but he started talking and didn't try to take Neville's wet and muddy hands off his. Their weight was comforting.

"No, it's not okay. She harms herself. I am afraid some day I'll go to her flat and found her lying lifelessly in her blood on cold bathroom's tiles. I don't know what to do. I tried to take her out. She doesn't want to anymore. People still throw things at us in the street after all these years. I couldn't care less, but she's not taking it well. She's so lonely since Marcus died."

Neville did his best to follow through Draco's erratic thought process. The young adult was leaning in the Head of Gryffindor's House's space inconsciously, seeking comfort.

"Flint ? I didn't know they had a thing going on."

Draco tried not to sight. He had said to Pansy that he didn't think Marcus was the person for her. He didn't like the way he treated her and talked of his concerns with her. Pansy had told him in no uncertain terms to fuck off and that she was a big girl and could take decisions herself, thank you very much. And then the idiot had died. Damn the man.

"It was quite new. But she went to see him at St Mungo's for the three weeks he was unconscious before he passed away and she just can't move forward."

Draco felt a lump in his throat. He tried to fight it, without success. Neville applied pressure to his hands.

"Breathe. We'll handle it." he said gently.

Draco laughed disconsolately. He felt Neville shiver next to him.

"We ? What are you talking about ? It's just her and myself." he said sternly.

He couldn't bring himself to look at Neville's face. He had said too much. Why did he felt like oversharing things ? It was idiotic of him.

"Don't you think you should accept some help ?" the Hogwarts' Professor said.

He sounded so earnest. It hurt. Draco shook his head.

"Help ? From you ? Do you remember what my aunt did to your parents ?" he said, standing suddenly, putting Neville off balance.

The herbologist felt the man's withdrawal. He couldn't let Draco to deal with his problems alone, but boy the idiot didn't make it easy. Neville's parents had always been his sore spot. He still had nightmares about Bellatrix Lestrange and woke screaming in the middle of the night. He rubbed the bridge of his noise in a calming motion.

"Of course I do ! Every single day, I remember what she took from me." he said, glaring at Malfoy.

The other man had not left but he was comtempling the idea, Neville was sure of it.

Okay. He could do it.

"You're not Bellatrix Lestrange. And you need help for your friend." he pleaded.

And for yourself, he wanted to say but stayed silent on that subject. He wasn't trying to drive Malfoy away.

"What do you suggest ?" Draco asked, mistrust written all over his face.

It was upsetting how easily he could go from comfort to that state.

Neville put his hands on Malfoy's shoulders. The other let him.

"Tell me where she lives. I'll send Luna. She's better for the mind that any doctor." he said with conviction.

Luna volunteered for this kind of things. Helping people to get back to their lives after the war. She was very good at it.

For a second, it looked like Malfoy was under a Stupefy spell, but he shook his head eventually.

"Wait, you think Pansy Parkinson would open her door to Luna Lovegood ? I said she wasn't doing well mentally, but it's still Pansy we're talking about." he declared.

"Give Luna some credit. Let her work her magic. She's more persuasive than you think. She helped me from dark times."

Flashes of Colin's last moments invaded his mind. The boy was bleeding so much. A part of the ceiling had collapsed on him. Neville had taken him away from the raging battle field in a discreet alcove and held him until the end.

He had listened to the boy talking about being a war hero, just like Harry Potter, and how he would have liked to play Quidditch in the team as a seeker but he wasn't good enough, of course and anyway this year the Carrows had made the Slytherins win even if they cheated, it was unfair, and Harry would save them all and ow, blimey, should it hurt that much ? intertwined with bouts of dementia (where's my sock ? do you see how purple the roses look ? I am going home for Easter, mum. Think about the radio. Why are there sickles in my head ? My sunglasses - It's a lion, dumbhead, where is my dagger ?)

It had lasted maybe twenty - thirty ? five ? - minutes before the kid's body went limp. Neville had a good cry in the alcove, holding the dead body of the boy against him until Seamus took him away.

"Something's wrong ?"

Neville felt Malfoy's cool hand on his cheek. He blushed

"Just remembering." he said with a shudder, trying to chase the memories away.

His gaze was haunted by invisible ghosts.

"I am sorry." Malfoy offered and he took a step closer.

Neville nodded but didn't say anything.

"My mother - my father wasn't a good person, but she was. I know she looked high and mighty, but she was a good mother and I loved her. She did her best to protect me from the Lord and keep me away from the Deatheaters. She loved me. And she loved my father too. When he was taken away, his name ruined and our reputation damaged, she couldn't bare it. She had always been in poor health. It killed her." he said slowly.

He looked at the sky. He liked to think he could find her in the wind, or in the clouds, or anywhere, really, if it means she was still here, somewhere, with him.

"You didn't have to share something this personal." Neville said, grateful for being distracted from his vision and a bit ashamed for it.

"I wanted to." Draco said, and he was surprised to realise it was true. "I like talking about her."

"You're welcome." Neville said, sincerely moved by the sudden trust Malfoy displayed.

The man was lost. Clearly. Malfoy wasn't talking about his deceased mother with him. He was hallucinating.

"I am sorry for everything I made you suffer through when we were kids. You're a really decent person, Longbottom."

An apology from Malfoy ? Definitely hallucinating.

"My friends call me Neville." he said quietly.

"Thank you for listening, Neville." Malfoy murmured touching his hand lightly.

His eyes were fixed elsewhere, though. Neville licked his lips. Draco's grip on his hand went tighter and his intake of breathe sharpened sightly.

Neville was Gryffindor enough to take it as an invitation. He crashed his lips on Malfoy's. The other man responded in kind without needing to be asked twice.

They separated a bit later, breathless and disheveled.

"I am kissing a Malfoy in front of her gravestone, Grandma would have had my head." Neville smiled lovingly.

"Since I am kissing a male Longbottom in an All bloods graveyard, it would be bold of me to assume I'd still have a head once my ancestors had dealt with me." Draco grinned.

"Sorry." Neville apologised.

He didn't want to bring in a painful subject.

"It's okay. I've been gay before you snogged the hell out of me, anyway." Draco joked.

"I heard nobody complain." Neville observed.

"You have good ears", Draco said before resuming their kissing.

After a moment, they separated again. Neville rested his head on Malfoy's chest.

"In for a sickle, in for a galleon, as the saying goes. Would you like for us to go on a date ? Or not. It sounded like a good idea in my head. I blame my Gryffindor's brains." he asked, not looking at his last kisser.

"It would be nice. You don't want to be seen with me, though. It's bit a bit tense since the end of the war." Draco said.

Neville shrugged.

"Nonsense. I don't mind." he stated.

He had enough of a good reputation in Hogwarts for the both of us and a bad enough reputation in the Prophet for not being afraid of the newspaper's opinion on people he dated.

"I do." Malfoy protested, arms crossed and lips tight.

Neville tried to diffuse the tension between them.

"Okay. What do you say to a dinner at my home ? Something simple, I'll cook. You could bring the wine. Er - Was it too forward ? If you prefer neutral grounds, I can ask Luna -"

Draco stopped him.

"It sounds perfect, Neville." he said softly.

He battled his eyelashes for the other man's benefits. Neville turned bright red.

"So, are we dating ?" he said, clearing his throat.

"That's the definition of going on dates, dear." Malfoy said, amused.

Neville glared daggers at him.

"Does it make us boyfriends ?" he asked eventually.

"If you want to. I don't mind what you call me. Well I'd rather not "fuck buddy number 9" - Ouch. Boyfriend is fine. But you shouldn't stress out for meeting the parents' part. Pansy can be a tough crowd though." Draco drawled.

Neville scratched his neck.

"I am not certain it is a good idea but I really like you." he said sincerely.

Neville's admission made Draco blush.

"Like you too. Owl me. And owl Pansy's information I gave you to Luna, please" he said tenderly.

He kissed his boyfriend - the word still felt weird on his tongue - chastely and went back to his flat, happier than he thought he'll ever be again.


End file.
